Cancelled Plans
by Katey Noelle
Summary: Clint deals with traumatic childhood triggers after learning that Phil was killed. Hawk-centric. Set after movie though features an extensive backstory.


**trigger warnings for vague mentions of child abuse and violence**

**words: 2,574**

The people in Psych had told Clint when he first arrived in S.H.I.E.L.D. that he could be trained in anti-interrogation to hold up against vague, generic reminders of a tortured past, but more personal triggers could be unpredictable and sudden. It wasn't new information, and for a moment he considered asking Fury to give him a new job in Psych if this is what they were paid so much to do. He had noticed throughout his life that blatant questions asked by teachers or concerned churchgoers had no effect on him, but a simple phrase or action would send him into an inward state of panic.

Fortunately, they were few and far in-between. Meeting someone named 'Tony' had his eyes searching for the nearest exit and certain lullabies had him running for the hills. He had discovered though that the most deep-seated one, for it triggered multiple memories spanning his whole life, was set off by cancelled plans.

It reminded him of his early life spent in the isolated farming town of Waverly, Iowa where Clint learned to rise with the Sun and come inside for a home-cooked meal when it set. The pair of boots left by the door in the morning or the empty chair at the dinner table forebode the angry, drunk man that would stumble through their door at three in the morning waving his rifle around and shouting for the family to come downstairs. A kink in their daily schedule heralded bruising handprints and broken fingers, of Barney shoving him under the table in a failed attempt at protection, of their mother being beaten in front of him while he lay on the floor in a pool of blood and pain.

Both of their parents missed dinner years later, and Clint was sat down next to Barney on that same living room floor and told that their parents had been killed in a car accident.

It evoked memories of his time in the foster homes, when missed rendezvous with Barney translated into either of them being sent to another orphanage or reluctant guardian. Of the plans he had cancelled, or the activities he would get in trouble for missing while he was hidden on the roof or in the rafters. The only places he could escape from the weird men, invasive women, and scared children. Barney was the only one who could coax him down from his safe places; he could be counted on to appear below him after a couple hours to bring him back down to earth. Being left along signified that his brother had left with a couple of the older orphans to go into the nearest town, steal a couple beers and stay out just late enough that they could come back and at least pretend they were sober. Those were the times when Clint stayed up in his perch for days, only coming down to sneak food or pay heed to his basic human needs.

His memories from the circus would follow next, his brain projecting each moment in chronological order like the photo albums he would see his foster parent's keep for their real kids. He had thought when Barney had told him his plans to travel with the circus that there wouldn't be any time there to make plans, much less cancel them. A child's delusion that it would be a life full of acrobatics and clown jokes rather than the harsh reality that was living with petty criminals and perverts. There, cancelled plans meant another clown busted for ecstasy, another acrobat caught prostituting, another slap in the face from people he thought he could trust.

He can vividly remember the last time he saw Barney, it was a couple nights after he had rejected his offer to rob some jewelry store in Houston, near where the circus was setting up camp. They had made plans to go to the movies, maybe hit a couple bars, until he had shown up with the bag of loot and a baseball bat. Passing out beaten and bloody in the deserted alleyway next to a bag of stolen diamonds all he could remember was the promise that Barney had made him to stay with him and protect him forever. That, like every other promise that had been made to him, had been shot to hell.

All considering, his 7 month stint in Juvey had, in terms of plans and promises, been the least traumatic of all of his experiences. He made no effort to befriend any fellow inmates, and they in turn ignored him to the point or non-existence. But he couldn't escape the night, which brought dreams of broken promises he shouldn't have trusted, and perfect families he'll never have.

The Basic Training that he had taken over another 10 years in jail was easy, and the Army was nothing if not thorough and he had barely got out of it before being thrust into sniper school. His first tour in Afghanistan had him constantly covering his unit from a thousand meters away, missed rendezvous plans meant they were captured. Except one time that it didn't, when he was the one who was captured and the last thing his CO told him was that they would get him out in a couple of hours. He was there for three weeks.

Transferring out of the military and into S.H.I.E.L.D. training meant meeting Phil Coulson, but it also meant establishing an unanticipated bond with him. Phil had learned quickly that trading a dinner or consultation with Clint in favor of paperwork or exhaustion induced sleep resulted in long hours combing the hovercraft for his newest nest.

Natasha had picked it up less quickly, or it was a lingering defense mechanism to exploit the fears of anyone who dared to get close to her. As their relationship deepened she learned not to make plans with him, not to fall into a routine. As partners they spent most of their time in each other's presence, and they found it easier to make plans on the fly with no chance of getting caught up in other things. As they became lovers she got more used to his spontaneity, he would drop in to her flat in Paris to take her out for dinner or kidnap her for a weekend trip to his apartment in Seattle.

The faith Clint had entrusted to Natasha was equaled only by her trust in him, it could help him escape his nightmares and calm down his anxiety attacks. Her ability to settle his mind was a product of how close he kept her in his heart, but when she herself showed up hours late from a mission or stood him up for one their few and far in between planned rendezvous, it scarred him worse than anything Barney could ever do. Those were the moments that kept him in the rafters the longest, barely acknowledging Phil or Natasha hours after they crawled into his nest.

So when Psych came crawling in for their yearly exam, cornering him in one of their examination rooms and hopelessly trying to find his triggers, he knew that was one thing he could always count on happening in time.

I hadn't been outside of Manhattan, or rather, talked to anyone besides Natasha and the rest of the team since Fury called in after the "Loki Incident" to get a vague briefing and give us some time off. Through the exhaustion, and slight lingering concussion from my cognitive recalibration, I hadn't noticed that it was uncharacteristic of Phil not to have called to check in. My addled brain could only assume that he had gotten everything he needed to off of Fury and was giving me time to settle down before hauling me in for a debriefing.

Walking into the meeting room that would be serving as headquarters until the helicarrier was repaired, my eyes methodically scanned for all exits and memorized every face I could see. Being an assassin, and member of the Avengers, wasn't a job that could be taken lightly or left at the office like some nine-to-five accountant.

"Where's Coulson?" I asked, voice calm and even though, from experience, I knew the answer wouldn't bode well.

"Fatal stab wound to the chest during Loki's escape from the helicarrier," Fury said bluntly.

"Did I-" the words died in my throat and Tasha cut me off soon enough that no one could sense my voice failure.

"You were already unconscious when it happened, Loki was the one who delivered the blow," she said, resting her foot on top of mine as an invisible sign of reassurance.

The rest of the meeting passed by in a haze, I could still hear and see everything perfectly but I had lost all of the emotions, all of the reactions that had flooded my brain moments before had vanished.

The only thing I could think of as I stared intently at the tabletop, speaking only when spoken to and avoiding all eye contact, was that if Phil was here he would pat me on the arm, stare at me with his unwavering blue eyes, and tell me to get over myself and stop moping.

Let's only hope Stark's tower has a nest.

The ride back to Stark's newly refurbished tower was unsurprisingly tense and uncomfortable, between Tony failing to defuse the situation with his jokes and Steve offering up some of his worst advice on getting over the loss of a friend it was obvious that Clint was so closed off he couldn't hear them anymore.

The car's engine hadn't completely shut off before Clint was out the door and bypassing Tony's security codes.

"You could just wait for Jarvis to let-" Tony started, before seeing Clint get inside the building with no trouble. "Or you could just do that."

"It's alright sir, I let him in. He was on Ms. Pott's pre-approved list," Jarvis said.

Before Tony could ask about the list the rest were sure he didn't know about Steve lightly pushed him inside the building in a successful attempt at shutting him up.

Tony took the group on a tour of the top ten floors, which had been turned into the Avenger's, along with Pepper, living space. Natasha took the opportunity to scan the areas Clint was likely to use as his nest, though finding the place almost completely free of rafters and high spaces put a damper on her efforts.

"Tony are there-" she started to ask while Tony showed her her room, but stopped when he turned around and abruptly dragged her from the room.

"Let me show you Clint's room, I assume you're sleeping together yes?" he said, wincing slightly at the punch she landed on his arms to make him let her go as he lead her to the elevator.

"Top floor if you please, Jarvis," he instructed.

The doors opened to reveal a smaller, circular room with floor to ceiling windows covering every wall besides the bathroom. It was a mostly bare space, with a desk near the west and a modest bathroom and adjourning closet. The floor was bare save for a large circle cut out in the middle with pillows surrounding the edges and a layer of blankets stacked up in the middle.

"It's a nest," Natasha whispered in disbelief.

"Yup, and he's surrounded on all four sides by the New York City skyline. I thought it was best for him to live in the highest place in the tower. The windows are tinted so you can't see inside them and it's got roof access so Katniss should feel right at home," Tony said, gesturing to wildly. "He's on the roof, by the way, had Jarvis check for me."

Murmuring a quick thanks she grabbed one of his blankets and walked briskly to the stairs leading up to the roof. Opening the door and seeing perched precariously on the ledge overlooking the 100 story drop.

She knew he knew she was there, walking over to him she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and places a quick kiss between his shoulder blades.

"He promised me that he would never leave me," Clint said, not caring how childlike he sounded as he pondered the streets below them.

He was going to take me to his mom's house for the Fourth of July, just like last year. He promised me I wouldn't be alone in this," Clint whispered.

"And you're not," Natasha said, turning him around and pulling him down off the ledge.

"I hadn't trusted anyone since Barney and now he's gone, he left me like everyone else. I know I'm being selfish but, Tasha, what if you're killed on a mission and- and I'm alone again. I've always known that I would be alone, I've just been fooling myself."

"Listen to me, Clint," Natasha whispered softly, taking his face between her hands as the assassins showed uncharacteristic displays of emotion. "I'm never going to leave you, and if Phil had a choice he wouldn't have left you either. We've got Steve and Tony and Bruce and Thor now, you're not alone and you're never going to be alone. I promise."

Even though they had never talked about why they never made plans, why they never made promises, she had always known it was because he knew they would be broken. He'd seen too many things for him to ever think otherwise. But staring into his

eyes she was sure he could see the conviction shining out of hers and maybe- just maybe- he would forget everyone who ever betrayed him and trust her just this once.

Feeling his arms wind around her shoulders and pull her flush against them she could tell that he trusted her. Not enough to break down his walls and let her in, but enough to know that with time it would happen.

Burying her face into his chest, she could feel his silent tears hitting her hair and she just hugged him tighter and let him get it out. As close as he and Phil had been, she knew he hadn't allowed him- or anyone- to see him in this state of emotional weakness and felt her heart tug when she realized he never had a confidant because no one ever stuck around long enough to become one.

"Love you, Tasha," he whispered into her hair.

Smiling into his chest she repeated the words back to him and traced soothing circles on his back. She used to say that love was for children, a feeling only the weak and impressionable could have. As they became lovers and she scoffed at him the first time he spoke the words she could still remember the look in his eyes as he told her that love was different for everyone, and this messed up relationship harbored their unique blend of pain and pleasure.

Feeling his tears slow to a stop she untangled herself long enough to wrap the blanket around his shoulders and lead him downstairs to collapse on his bed still snuggled up against each other.

He knew that Tasha wouldn't be able to erase every scar his past had inflicted upon him, but together with the Avengers he could learn to trust, to a small degree, again. And he was, for the first time in his life, planning to make an effort for it to happen.

**fin.**


End file.
